"blundered" poems
words so clever could not hide this blundered heart
two halves in being when we are apart
these words so carefully crafted [turn and spill] become my art
they help me mend my
broken
broken
heart
this canvas: ***** tattered
just paint me lavender
and find me there after
Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 11:32 PM UTC
*Is there anything more wonderful
Then being part of the poet’s corner?
Lucky am I to be a poetry lover!
A romance novelist used poetry to ponder
A story that changes and transforms
One’s heart. Is there anything more wonderful?
Joining a poetry site, I blundered
My way to writing a poem, oh what torture!
But lucky am I to be a poetry lover.
Many offered their support, allowing me to discover
My path and slowly my writing became stronger.
Is there anything more wonderful?
So many inspired awe and wonder,
Giving me strength to claim my own corner,
Justifying my becoming a poetry lover.
To those who offered encouragement so tender
I offer my thanks and give honor.
Is there anything more wonderful
Than becoming a poetry lover?*
Kelly Rose
December 29, 2015
Dec 30, 2015
Dec 30, 2015 at 12:18 AM UTC
No country’s history makes us proud.
It is mere exploitation and colonization.
the poor were suppressed and oppressed.
The rich reveled in utmost luxury
And the weak lived in extreme penury.
The kings were fond of eulogy
And the poets excelled themselves in their elegy.
In the countries like India, the money was looted
the temples were plundered, and the system was blundered
And her progress was greatly hindered
Slowly the kings and kingdoms vanished
the so called democracies and socialism flourished
the bureaucracy and plutocracy replaced autocracy
Corruption and criminality maintained their status quo
After Independence, a new class emerged in India.
They became the rulers in the name of democracy.
There have been un-imaginable scandals
Money reached the Swiss bank like pearls in the ocean
India is a poor country but the Indians are rich
Mar 10, 2011
Mar 10, 2011 at 3:59 AM UTC
I heeded that you are married
no attribution against you
I the one to rebuke
I could've been a man sufficiently
when you said: man up
I became less a man you yenned
I was dark to scope your worst of love
I blundered to enroll, only love is to rescue
I exclusively thought you had a disease
that you can't breathe in general
though I am envious, but I still say:
God bless you and your remedy
He should be me to rescue you
But I was dark to cognize
affection is the only thing you need to meliorate
I urge I could just turn back the hands of time
Began a fashionable living with you
Instantly that I cognize, you are a love patient
I'll man up, I'll provide sufficiently
I'll satisfy your breathe
Just so, I cognize
you are mated to him
He's better than me, better than anyone else
In him you belong, stay blessed.
Dec 3, 2015
Dec 3, 2015 at 6:48 PM UTC
Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
"Forward, the Light Brigade!
Charge for the guns!" he said:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
"Forward, the Light Brigade!"
Was there a man dismayed?
Not tho' the soldiers knew
Someone had blundered:
Theirs was not to make reply,
Theirs was not to reason why,
Theirs was but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
Cannon to the right of them,
Cannon to the left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volleyed and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell,
Rode the six hundred.
Flashed all their sabres bare,
Flashed as they turned in air,
Sab'ring the gunners there,
Charging and army, while
All the world wondered:
Plunging in the battery smoke,
Right through the line they broke;
Cossack and Russian
Reeled from the sabre-stroke
Shattered and sundered.
Then they rode back, but not--
Not the six hundred.
Cannon to the right of them,
Cannon to the left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volleyed and thundered;
Stormed at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell,
They that fought so well,
Came thro' the jaws of Death,
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of the six hundred.
When can their glory fade?
Oh, the wild charge they made!
All the world wondered.
Honor the charge they made!
Honor the Light Brigade,
Noble Six Hundred!
2.5k
I once had a small purple vase.
It was almost a year old.
But I remembered how my ex and I blundered
And all of his things had to go.
I gave away his sweatshirt
His shorts and shirts got burned
And the teddy bear he gave me
Was torn apart by the people who mean most to me.
He gave me a purple vase.
It was wrapped pretty in a bow
Once it had living flowers
But now I had to let it go
I went outside with my true family
And recorded my final blow
Of shattering the vase
On the ground below
I felt the ricochet
Of a piece run astray
And my baby exclamed to me
That I cut myself indeed
And thats when I realized
How my last relationship was really through
Because if I cut my head with the other one
He wouldn't have held my hand to help me
He would have let me do it on my own
And not even checked on me
I know this for sure
Because it happened once before
I feel free now for sure
That all his things are out my home
And once I see my baby's things replace them
It becomes the final bow
For once I see no remnance of him
I think I'll truely feel clean
Once my forehead heals
And memories repress
I'll finally be able
To fully put him to rest
Jul 31, 2015
Jul 31, 2015 at 12:51 AM UTC
Passionate love,
How had they managed it?
A flask of bourbon
Was this blundered love affair
Mar 12, 2015
Mar 12, 2015 at 12:55 PM UTC
'Beds to the front of them,
Beds to the right of them,
Beds to the left of them,
Nobody blundered.
Beamed at by hungry souls,
Screamed at with brimming bowls,
Steamed at by army rolls,
Buttered and sundered.
With coffee not cannon plied,
Each must be satisfied,
Whether they lived or died;
All the men wondered.'
2k
(Please Read the note at the bottom)
Desert thy land, lay waste to haven
Spread thy sorrow, hath not to save him
Keep to willow with sunlight pourn
To mild temptation, mild scorn.
Keep she beauty to dusk by horse
Laying down to things by force
Stragling victor selfless mind
Keep to you hath truth hath lied.
By crowd by storm, stream agony pride
Thy land be beut for non to side
To side with hatred, iron blade
To mate and bring yet nothing fade.
She whispers deadly night to dark
Seeping mind of man to spark
Keeping kings and fellow courtly
Stranger too by fire nightly.
And taketh she to highest land
For mighty justice lays thy hand
For she hath strewn for kingdoms come
And taketh non, but frighten some.
The day of dawn, sun rise, sun set
To we thine preach to no regret
King be praised, devil blundered
Simple tricks to thy hath sundered.
Keep to crop to peasant prowl
Marking down thy land to dowl
Father pray to thine above
Graceful metaphoric love.
Final night be cold and dreary
Sight like eagle, keep to query
Dance thy drunkard, feed to Summer
Hapless end to what doth shown her.
Dec 11, 2013
Dec 11, 2013 at 7:56 PM UTC
Sunny day in June, the tenth to be exact
The horrible day my sister was attacked
Beth was in the house, her friend Mark outside
She was cleaning,he in the yard kept with pride
Beth Anne was on hands and knees scrubbing the floor
When she heard real gunshots, at least she swore
Snuck to the window and peered out with care
On the rocky driveway, saw Mark sprawled out there
Been shot three times in his back,lay in his blood
Beth saw her ex...with a .38 he stood
While terrified, behind the aquarium she ducked
Brad blundered in dressed in hunters camouflage- ****
Her heart hammering in her ears, bursts of short breaths
Saw him through the murky water, planning two deaths
Beth Anne cowered down praying to her dear Lord
He found her, pulled her up by the hair, fired once more
The bullet blew off her ear and traveled on down
Collapsed her lungs, in her blood she would drown
Brad disappeared and the firing just stopped
For Mexico he fled, red ranger with white top
Beth dragged herself the complete length of the rug
Called 911, shed been shot...head ringing from slug
She was determined to live, wouldn't give up the fight
But then she passed out endangering her plight
Came the Greeley police, fire trucks, EMT's
Assessed the situation, perp further he flees
They all worked on Mark, too late he was dead
One smart responder....woman shot in the head
They spreading out rushed the house, found my sis
Beth was unresponsive, victim almost missed
Speeding to Weld County General, sirens blaring
Got her in the ER cut off what she was wearing
O.R. She went with damage extensive
Not much hope, docs and staff apprehensive
For many hours they sawed, pinned, stitched and closed
The ICU threat of infection posed
Her body and face were unrecognizable
Family stood believing the impossible
Appeared an Adonis with blonde hair and blue eyes
Talk of afterlife evidently not lies
Her guardian angel told Beth he was there
Would appear much later, in death they would share
Sep 14, 2013
Sep 14, 2013 at 6:47 PM UTC
388
Take your Heaven further on—
This—to Heaven divine Has gone—
Had You earlier blundered in
Possibly, e’en You had seen
An Eternity—put on—
Now—to ring a Door beyond
Is the utmost of Your Hand—
To the Skies—apologize—
Nearer to Your Courtesies
Than this Sufferer polite—
Dressed to meet You—
See—in White!
1.4k
Deep into the midnight
below the gleaming star,
I stepped on the running wall — the creation of Nirvana,
lights.
Heaven's an enigma
a forged between the steely and the curve
the star's collision and the minor parts
have the iciest heart — a grain of Truth.
Prophesy the future,
shuffle the sheets
and let them look at
your eyes — does it carry the dullest truth?
Or a blundered ignorance?
Does the dawn of the newborns
form the hallowed mysteries
of heaven's plea?
Into the Unborn
where the sky holds a mere certainty.
You climb long — to match the moon's faint
and the beaming sunlight;
where the galaxy
was just as narrow
as the strange fragments
of what we see?
Then if beneath us was the roaring storm,
will it expose the unborn?
Will the dream catch us
when we fall asleep?
Into the future.
Jun 26, 2020
Jun 26, 2020 at 10:34 AM UTC
This dull ache started
In the middle of my gut
Spreading
Like an oil slick
Did not spare
My bruised heart
And
Tumultuous brain
Coated
Like perishing penguins
In layers of black
Beside upturned
Prey
Both dying
The same malady
Tormenting
Prey and
Predator
Your words
Trying to soak
This inky toxin
Resemble
Feeble attempts
To stop
This amoebic monster
Growing
Changing shape
Nevertheless
Spreading
To the far corners
Of a once clean
Calm picturesque
Ocean
Tranquility shattered
By Pipe bursts
Of random speech
That may take
Years to clean
Yet leave a mark
Our relationship
Pure
Until this spill
Dearest
I blundered
Overconfident
In love
And my ignorance
Your feelings
Sensitive
Like the corals
Tarnished now
I am trying
To clean
This unsightly stain
With my tears
And your
Understanding
I know your heart
Large as the ocean
Will soak up
My folly
Erase the blemish
Clear the water
That we may stand
Hands entwined
Like clown fish
And
Sea anemone
Inseparable
After our long
Painful
Separation
Dec 26, 2011
Dec 26, 2011 at 2:35 AM UTC
Crosses and troubles a-many have proved me.
One or two women (God bless them!) have loved me.
I have worked and dreamed, and I've talked at will.
Of art and drink I have had my fill.
I've comforted here, and I've succoured there.
I've faced my foes, and I've backed my friends.
I've blundered, and sometimes made amends.
I have prayed for light, and I've known despair.
Now I look before, as I look behind,
Come storm, come shine, whatever befall,
With a grateful heart and a constant mind,
For the end I know is the best of all.
1.3k
She prances the streets, a ballerina in heat snapping finger's in rhyme! Forget thy time, she telephathicly makes her own.
She lives alone, yet roomies become her attire, maiden of dires, dating site's not accommodating thy interest? Pinterest !
A pipe she keeps next to her bed, juicy lipstick, a prideful head,
Yet still her small green bag does not satisfy.. Queen so blind!
Smoke evacuates the old pried windows that are nailed, for ghosts do haunt her, within and outside..
Thoughts of suicide, as riddles she makes up to stay sane, her mascara pounds to thine rain that leaks into her basement sanctuary!!
Addict's she clings to, monsters she speaks to, as her cats keep good company, I know!!!!
An operetic show, a fatalist as me, yet still hoping for whats not there, unruly she dares!!!
Her street lies beyond the ghettos, 515 dover lane ..
On the east side of town where the bullets meet with trains!!
Factory's of grains that make your daily bread, where thy living and thou dead come in between two world's...
Lonesome young girl, no more chariots can you escape, for thou art blundered and unvaped to the cloud animals thou creates!
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 12:32 PM UTC
When we'd stood and wondered
where our lives were going,
not knowing our hearts had blundered
still we waited for the midnight crowing.
We thought we could begin our journey
at the morning's first light,
and when the fires were lowly burning
we had seen that beautiful sight
At light's last waning glow
we realised our folly
and felt love's striking blow.
We fell and neither was sorry
as we were consumed by the falling snow
Aug 18, 2015
Aug 18, 2015 at 12:33 PM UTC
Alone the room spun
The days war had been won
And though I wished to shed my tears
A princess may never show proof of her fears
Many times I've blundered
Beneath storms thunder
But I'd give my life to the kingdom
To regain their freedom
My arms tied, I'd given up love
My eyes closed, I gave my heart a shove
But a trickster popped in
And gave my world a spin
It was a triangle of death, the valley of hell
Because to which one I loved I couldn't tell
My heart belonged in the hands of a friend
We'd soon be wed, though our love was pretend
The queen would soon lose her throne
And I'd remain , all alone
With a crown to rule upon my head
My mother... Would be dead
Her powers killed her slowly she was thirty nine
Lucky that wouldn't happen with mine
Scolded by the glares of my kin
I wondered when the peace would begin
Dec 4, 2012
Dec 4, 2012 at 5:42 PM UTC
So you've broken the cycle of addiction
as it's no longer around here today.
You have played a big part in its eviction
and caused it all bravely to go away.
It was good to see its days were all numbered
even though it was around for so long;
you succeeded where the others had blundered
to be standing here with those who are strong.
Keep a clear mind now and be not complacent
to allow it into your life again
for its stronghold may once more be adjacent
in resisting all you'll strive to attain.
But who else here knows how hard it has all been?
You'd only have to look back then to see;
the hopelessness caused before on one's life screen
that captured all those moments which were free.
_________________________
Sep 30, 2023
Sep 30, 2023 at 9:58 PM UTC
Slack canvas bends with the first strokes:
brush and paint scar a waiting whiteness.
Others follow of less distinct pressure
but now with an affected swirl
a life emerges.
Colours are selected with random thoroughness,
outlining only what the eye believes it sees.
Shapes conform to break the rules and innovate,
where bright arrays can glide through blundered blobs:
ochre, umber, raw sienna.
Sable is saved for finer life forms
steadfastly fixed in oil.
Tentatively mixtures are blended
to blur the more familiar with
darker and darker hues.
The creator remains anonymous.
Jul 7, 2011
Jul 7, 2011 at 11:48 PM UTC
Torn by the ***** of thorns
Surrounding my garden bed
I sleep here, and silently mourn
My soul that has been dead
I weep into my dirtied hands
Stained by the blood of my own heart
I know that no one will truly understand
The pain of which I wish to part
My tears are black just like my soul
They smear across my face
Inside I knew I'd never been whole
Used words and meaningless things in its place
This emptiness inside, will there ever be a cure?
I used to sit up at night and wonder
There was no way I could ever be sure
In all my ignorance I'd blundered
Because beyond the pain and the tears
I looked right past your face
You where standing there defeating my fears
And it was you who would fill that place
I owe my heart to you
My angle
I owe my life to you too
Because in the end it was your love that filled
My empty soul in the end
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 11:01 PM UTC
I.
White’s imprisoned gray.
A black sole subdues
one red glove with a crunch.
There it will pause, fingerless
until the first thaw.
II.
The sun's amber frown of diminished light
slides down black branches
a blundered slight,
but when it hits the ground, it rides
wonders of uninterrupted white.
III.
Steamy columns of warmth
slip through the crack,
pawed open by blue purrs from his white cat—
a tonic wash, to welcome.
slush-slicked, black boots back
IV.
Nuzzled, from the muzzling of a drowsy-
days-long muslin wrap, brown earth bursts
through what white patchwork's left, to cure
her forbidden tramplers with a slurpy
and black-mouthed, aubade kiss.
V.
Winter’s white makes shallow breaths,
and exhausted she coughs black
complaints about the crushed
green of popped-down bottles,
a cellophane orange cat with a close hold
on his shorted stock of shock-
yellow crumbs, and the assorted other
man-made matter mocking
her color, but never her,
wherever they stay.
Feb 3, 2011
Feb 3, 2011 at 11:41 AM UTC
It doesn’t come on a horse-drawn carriage.
It doesn’t come as tall, dark, and handsome.
It doesn’t come with a prince’s crown.
It doesn’t come with magic fairy dust.
Forget the chick flicks.
Forget the old school fairy tales.
Forget the Nicholas Sparks novels.
Forget playing M.A.S.H. when you were six years old.
I’m not sure how it works
(Because, trust me, I wish I did).
But this culture has brainwashed our intelligent minds
To writhing pulps obsessed with “love.”
You do not love.
You love to love. And there is a great difference, my dears.
For when you truly love, you don’t feel it.
You do it.
And whoever told you that:
“Immature love says, ‘I love you because I need you.”
Mature love says 'I need you because I love you.’”
…
Well, they have foolishly blundered.
For you don’t “need” to be in love.
Mature love should say, “I love you because I love you,
And I have no explanation for why that is,
But I will always choose to do right by you.”
I don’t have the answer,
So I don’t ask the question.
But I’m not silly enough to believe what the world screams at me.
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 8:48 PM UTC
Nights pass dreamless
just as the days do.
Often seamless,
in the absence of you.
Memories stir like a summer storm
upon me in an instant.
In your too familiar form,
and times well spent.
Rain from my eyes
to fall on this bed.
Once to muffle lover's sighs,
and rest your head.
As your hair falls around me
now I see.
Feelings I thought were key,
no more than what you wished to be.
Friends
and then something more.
So here, this is how it ends,
we've got nothing left in store.
Brilliant from the start
one, but now two sundered.
Destined to be apart,
no more love, into which we blundered.
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 7:17 PM UTC